The grey dawn is creeping onto my bedroom walls; I’ve been awake since 4:30.

I feel anxious, though I can’t conjure up a reasonable explanation for it.

So I surfed the net and thoroughly researched the iPad 3G, looked at old photos, tried to decide where to plant my new hydrangea tree that’s on its way, and got nosy with a few Facebook accounts that I shouldn’t have been viewing.

And now it’s 7:00 – a perfectly reasonable time for me to get up and start my day, but I wish it were still the middle of the night so I could roll over and close my eyes for awhile.

I don’t usually have trouble sleeping.

Too early to plant, too broke to shop, too many pounds to wear my favorite clothes. Too sore to run, too hungry to diet… too discontented to be grateful.

Too busy to stop, too opinionated to shut the hell up. Too indecisive to plan a vacation.

Too much of a fucking perfectionist.

Today we’ll dye Easter eggs for tradition that we won’t ever eat, and hopefully I will have my new chandelier installed by nightfall. I’ll buy shortening and potatoes at the grocery, sweep away the house dust and organize my recipes for tomorrow’s special meal.

I think it’s time for orange juice.

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